The Doctor Makes a House Call
by CountryGirl914
Summary: House has an interesting discussion with a clinic patient. Crossover, of sorts. You may be able to tell with which show from the title.


**A/N:** Just more randomness that came upon me the other day. Like I said, it's a crossover, but I don't think you need to know the other show for this story to make sense.

**Feedback:** Is love. Please review!

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House glared at the empty chart as he made his way into the exam room. Cuddy had foisted an entire day in the clinic on him, and if he had to deal with one more whiny kid or worried mother, he couldn't be held responsible for his actions.

Once inside the room, he glanced up from the blank piece of paper to the patient that went with it. A man, possibly in his early thirties, tall and thin, and covered in brown—from his floppy hair, to his eyes, to his pinstriped suit and the long overcoat folded beside him. The brown man was currently sitting on the exam table, idly swinging his legs while looking at him curiously. House cleared his throat. "I see you didn't feel like filling out anything on the lovely form the nurse gave you. Why don't we start with the basics—name?"

"The Doctor."

He looked over the top of the clipboard as he processed the British accent. "Riiiight. I think it's safe to say that I'm the only doctor in this room. Try again."

"John Smith."

Slowly, he lowered the clipboard and looked at the man again. He was still just sitting there, swinging his legs and staring back, eyebrows raised.

House shrugged as he put pen to paper. "Whatever. We'll see what Cuddy makes of 'The Doctor.' That should be fun." He moved to the next line. "So what brings you here today? Think we're hiding some miracle cure to the common cold? Manage to get something lodged somewhere unmentionable?"

"Nope," the Doctor said, popping the last syllable. "Just wandering."

House finally set the clipboard down, incredulous. "There's nothing wrong with you?" The man shook his head.

Calling psych was sounding better and better with each passing moment. "I have to say, you're pretty far from home to just be wandering."

An enigmatic smile appeared on the other man's face. "You have no idea." He hopped off the exam table and started strolling around the room. "I've been wandering for a while now—more than usual, actually. Happened to land near the hospital, and decided to come in and observe. It's nice, to see lives being saved after losing someone close to you."

Already tiring of the melodrama, House rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, not another 'I can't go on with my life' story. Everyone thinks they _need_ people in their lives—I say it's just another societal rule that's better off ignored."

"And I'd say you're a hypocrite," his patient-turned-sparring-partner replied, running a hand over the glass jars filled with q-tips and cotton balls. "I've been watching you all day, going in and out of that waiting room—"

"So you're Freud now? Observed me for a few hours, and now you think you know everything about me, how my bitter, rude personality is just a protective shell hiding a poor, pitiful child who never got any love from his—"

The other man finally turned to face him, eyes dark, and the expression on his face made House, for once in his life, shut up.

"You silly little ape, with your silly delusions of grandeur. I've been to places you've never even dreamed of—places where observation is an art form, where entire lives are devoted to learning how to read others. So when I say something, know that I mean it."

He didn't even seem to pause for breath before continuing. "You act like you don't need other people, yet you're surrounded by them. You start fights with your boss, Cuddy, when you know there are things that would get rid of her more quickly. You preen and boast to your fellows—Cameron especially, from what I've seen. And the other man—Wilson, was it? You search him out just to talk to him. Most people would call that a friendship. You think that wanting to be around others is a weakness, but it's just another part of being human. No, it's bigger than that—it's part of being _alive_. Civilizations far greater than yours have fallen trying to prove that contact with others is unnecessary. It's not—not even for me. And trust me, I've tried."

His expression turned bittersweet. "Your life may not be what you've always wanted, but it's what you've got. And one day it's going to be gone, and you'll realize too late that you never saw what you had right in front of you." There was a flash of sadness in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. "You're a very smart man, Doctor Gregory House. Don't be that stupid."

And with that, the man turned on his heel and left the room.

House just stood there, stunned into silence. He didn't move until Cameron came into the room a few minutes later, jacket and purse in hand. "There you are. I can't believe it—I thought you'd tear out of here as soon as your shift was over. Everything okay?"

Blinking and shaking his head, he turned his gaze to her. "Yeah, I'm fine." His voice was far away, and he seemed distracted.

"If you say so." Cameron was unconvinced, but she let it drop. "It's been a long day. Chase, Foreman, and I are going out for drinks. Wilson said he might join us. You're welcome to come."

The roll of the eyes and the sarcastic rejection she was expecting never came. House just turned and looked at the exam table for a long moment before turning back to her, eyes now clear.

"You know what? I think I will."

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End file.
